Stepping through the Threshold to Build a Sanctuary #nonprofit

Photo taken during the medicine walk at the beginning of the day

In the days before my “nonprofit sanctuary building retreat day,” my co-facilitator, Heidi, and I found feathers everywhere. The banded blues and blacks of bluejays and the curled wisps of downy undercoats fell repeatedly along our paths, and in my case the tail feather of a yellow-shafted flicker in the middle of my driveway. The golden center unmistakable. Some things are meant to be noticed.

My yellow-shafted flicker feather

The invitations had been sent out about two months prior, and almost immediately responses came back, most stating enthusiastically that they were definitely going, or would try to. Yet, life has a way of taking over, and by the time Saturday came we were expecting only four more. That made six of us for the day, with one more, my husband, who appeared periodically. Some things are just meant to be.

For those of you who know me through the mystical world that I walk through, you will know that I have a rather intimate relationship with the hexagram. Not in any nefarious way, as that is religious dogma’s fear of mystical symbols that predate even the written word. The hexagram is the symbol that brought me to Sue, my spiritual mentor, and is the symbol that came as a labyrinth calling in the Warriors of Light in my book series. It is a sacred geometrical alignment of unity and balance. Combining the (triangles) elements of water (feminine) and fire (masculine), as well as earth and air. Its elemental form creates a six-pointed star. In the center is one more, not always visible point, representing the soul as an aspect of the divine. On Saturday, I had my 6 + 1 = 7. A complete hexagram star.

Some things are meant to be, and as the weekend played out I became more and more convinced that Sue was orchestrating, at least in part, from beyond the veil.

Our magical sunset

So let me tell you about the night before. Heidi and I arrived at the lake at 7pm. Dusk was settling in fast, and the setting sun haloed the hills of the (goddess) land in an aura of gold. Into the cove we walked to watch the alchemy of earth, fire, air and water.

We went to bed early, Heidi to a downstairs bedroom, and I to the upstairs loft. It took me hours to fall into sleep, and when I did I was woken abruptly by the sound of the fire alarms going off. It was 11:01am. Heidi, downstairs, noted the same time, also now fully awake.

We gathered with racing hearts to assess the situation and could find nothing amiss. Climbing back into bed with my mind restless, it took a long period of time to find sleep again. Shortly after I did, the fire alarms went off. It was now 1:11am. Heidi, downstairs, also noted the time.

As we once again gathered to assess the situation, we become increasingly convinced that the alarms going off with three ones each time had not been accidental. Perhaps we were just not meant to sleep, at least not restfully. Heidi did not wake again until about six in the morning, I, on the other hand, woke once more, this time to the persistent hooting of an owl. I was too tired to look at the clock, but the messenger was noted.

The ensuing day unfolded as it was meant to. The six, plus occasional one, shared thoughts and ideas. The right questions were asked, and I had some, but not all of the answers. By the end of the day, lots of pieces of the puzzle were scattered about, but it had yet to be assembled. Our mission was to work on a name, tag line and logo, and we had aspects of each, but the whole was still illusive. Earlier in the day, during a medicine walk, I had heard this phrase inside of my head, “Surrender to not knowing, that’s when the magic happens.”

Tired and packing to go home, I didn’t know what to think of it all. Everything still felt amorphous and uncertain. I was grateful for the efforts of the gathering, but I wasn’t sure what to make it. So I let it settle and be. I went home and unpacked, watched some TV, read, and then went to bed. Almost immediately, I fell into a deep slumber.

At 1:31am, I woke abruptly. My shoulder was aching and so I rolled on my back and started to think. I thought about the pieces from the previous day and what was missing. I thought about how when I had read my vision narrative for the sanctuary, one of the participants had noted there was something missing, yet I could not articulate it during our day together. And then it occurred to me.

Wonder.

How could I have forgotten wonder, which had always been central to the vision, but had somehow not been articulated in its story. And then the name came to me. And then the tag line. I started piecing together an image for a logo, realizing the components were there, laid before me, I just needed to put them together. I thought about the book I had recently read even though, as my husband said, I had “hated” the movie, Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. Suddenly, I realized who my target audience was in a way that felt more concrete.

And I thought of another message I had received during the medicine walk after I had heard the call of a loon, “Let go of expectations. Anything is possible when you open the doorway and walk through.” After years of holding this close to my heart, I think I had just walked through the doorway with my dream.

“I Will Send You Birds” #lifeafterdeath #signsfromspirit

A robin nesting in a lilac outside my window. I did not take photos of the robins two days ago. I just watched them in wonder, flying and gathering on the holly bush outside my window. Too many to count.

There were many moments after Sue Vincent passed away when I allowed myself to slip into the agony of the mundane. You might think agony is a strong word to use for the mundane, but let me try to explain why I chose this descriptor.

I believe we are birthed opening our eyes to wonder. We leave the vast infinite expanse of connection to experience individuality, but with the hope of holding onto the magic of being. We are not simply cells collected into a body to experience a finite existence, we are being itself. The most basic laws of physics tell us that our energy cannot be destroyed, yet how often do we allow ourselves to slip into the agony of the mundane doubting the magic of our infinite existence?

There are many things that remind me of this slip. Facebook’s algorithm pops up old photos and quotes from the years when I was wrapped in the magic of wonder. Blog posts reappear on my sidebar reminding me that the magic of life I recorded received more likes than the agony of the mundane. And, most importantly, the constriction of the cells within my body remind me that I am a body of wonder waiting to be expressed, again. Over and over again.

This is life.

Sue was, in many ways, a gateway to wonder for me. We met through wonder. I dreamt of the cosmic eye, and then she appeared. Soon after, I saw a vision of a hexagram, and it was Sue who nudged the opening of its magic. Sue came into my life at just the right moment. I needed a teacher and a guide to help me open to the labyrinth of light that threads through life, and together we traveled through time to find that connection. Sue was, literally, a gateway to magic. And when she passed, I mourned her with a fierceness I had not expected. I didn’t want to let that magic go.

And, of course, I didn’t have to. 

When I was working on the first chapters of Keys to the Heart I sent a passage to Sue for her input. The only thing she suggested I change was the use of the phrase, “of course.” I heeded her advice and erased the phrase each time I had used it, and made sure I omitted the impulse when it arose as I continued to write the book after her passing. With one exception, the dedication page.

“For Sue, of course.”

I can see her smiling. I can see that wrap of feathers she wore lifted into wings. I can see the wren, and the owl. The raven and the kite. And, two days ago, when I revealed the cover of my new book, I saw robins. Dozens of them. The most I have ever seen gathered together. In the middle of January. Outside my window. All day. Robins. The bird of birth and spring. It could not have been more fitting.

“I will send you birds.”

After Sue passed, and I began to question whether the thread of our connection still existed, Sue appeared to me during meditation. “I will send you birds,” she told me.

And so she has.

Of course.

The Hexagram Star as a Labyrinth of Connection #labyrinth #hexagram #fantasyseries #warriorsoflight

The star and the labyrinth have been worldwide symbols throughout history (and most likely, prehistory), but they are not commonly combined. So why did I choose to merge the two in my metaphysical fantasy series, Warriors of Light?

To answer this, we need to explore the metaphysical origins of both. Let’s start with the star, and why I chose a hexagram.

Typically stars, when used in the realms of magic, contain five or six points. Five pointed stars are often associated with witchcraft or sorcery, and although my series is filled with “magic,” it is not the type of magic that comes from spells and wands. Instead, I wanted to explore the magic of creation. The magic that that feeds and threads through all life. And, I wanted my readers to explore their own journeys of connection. Therefore, I needed to use a six pointed star.

Otherwise known as the hexagram.

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay This image illustrates the balancing of yin and yang, or masculine and feminine energies that are explored in the series.

The hexagram star is widely known and utilized as a symbol for both secular and nonsecular purposes. I was particularly interested in the hexagram as a symbol that predates religion. I wanted to explore it in its “magical” elemental form. To examine its individual components (in particular, the elements that overlap and join into one). I wanted to break down the whole into the essence to form the whole again. Herein lies the origin of the labyrinth as a hexagram.

Image by Mauistik from Pixabay Commonly known as the “Star of David,” the hexagram has origins that thread throughout the world. I was particularly interested in the components of balance it offers.

Sound confusing?

Let me try to explain by switching for a bit to the labyrinth as a symbol. A labyrinth is often defined as a maze-like structure, but in the metaphysical world the maze becomes a pathway the individual takes to learn about the inner self. It is, in essence, and a journey that begins on the outside and leads to the inner core. One travels upon it to gain spiritual insight and clarity, as well as a sense of connection to Life.

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay Not quite the labyrinth that is commonly used for spiritual exploration, but similar…

According to the Labyrinth Society, the labyrinth as a spiritual symbol has been around for at least 4,000 years. It has a defined structure that resembles more or less ordered pathways that lead from the outer to the inner, rather than a maze intended to confuse and disorient. The labyrinth as a maze looks more like this:

Image by DigitalShards from Pixabay Labyrinth as a maze.

For the purposes of my series, I chose to combine the maze of confusion with the labyrinth as spiritual pathway. I wanted it to be both a journey that could trap and disorient, as well as a means to reach the central core of Life. To be more like everyone’s journey. Most of us don’t find balance and connection without a fair amount of setbacks (or traps in the case of my characters), as well as a great deal of mucking through the darkness of the shadow self.

Which brings me back to the hexagram star and the “key of balance” (that comes more into play in book two of the series, yet to be released). In the Warriors of Light there are six warriors on the cusp of adolescence, at the age of thirteen when the child self dies to make way for the adult. These six warriors must not only walk individual outer paths to get to a deeper and more mature (or wiser) understanding of themselves, they must also intersect their pathways to heal the origins of Life itself.

Therefore, I needed a symbol of balance with six starting points for each of my six warriors. I needed a star with six points (of light) that joined and overlapped. A hexagram star.

The hexagram as labyrinth as used in Warriors of Light

The hexagram as a spiritual symbol, like the labyrinth, predates organized religion. Although it seems unclear exactly where its origins lie, or for how long this symbol has been used, the hexagram has a history across the globe. And, as a magical symbol, represents harmony and balance. Two equilateral triangles overlap to form a star. One pointing above, one pointing below. In elemental terms they are often viewed as representing water and fire (and sometimes combined with earth and air). A balance of yin with yang. Masculine and feminine energies merging into one.

My six warriors are not only a mix of “males” and “females,” within each of them is a predominance of one or more elements, as well as ethnicities. And, as a group, there is a balance of yin and yang energies that don’t necessarily follow societal norms. Together, they are tasked with a mission to restore balance to the world. A balance that has been broken by the impacts of the human race. To restore this balance, they must navigate the broken pathways of the labyrinth as a hexagram and restore the light of connection. And so, therein lies a story of the hexagram as a labyrinth.